


Five Times Olivia Didn't Know What to Say to a Person, So She Kissed Them

by gilligankane



Category: Guiding Light
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-16
Updated: 2009-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There goes Olivia, kissing everyone every time she can't find the words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Olivia Didn't Know What to Say to a Person, So She Kissed Them

**_i. (after the proposal)_ **

She’s been here before, shouting across the living room with fire in her eyes and in her words and Natalia standing there with confusion in her voice and denial on her tongue.

 _They’ve_  been here before.

This time, someone thinks they’ve  _broken_  up; this time Emma told her whole class that Natalia dumped her, because Frank brainwashed Natalia and tricked her into taking the magic ring of doom that she can’t ever take off her finger or she’ll  _die_.

They  _really_  need to stop letting Emma read such,  _inventive,_  bedtime stories.

Regardless of Emma’s bedtime stories, Ms. Jennings calls home and tells her that Emma has regaled the entire class with her far-fetched story and simultaneously cried herself to exhaustion during recess.

“She’s just a little girl,” she defends but Natalia rolls her eyes, like she’s tired of that excuse.

“Well she needs to get her story straight!” And it shouldn’t be funny, but it  _is_ , because Natalia just doesn’t get it: she doesn’t understand how  _not_  straight this entire story is.

She’s not making it up when she calls Natalia naïve.

“Stop laughing,” Natalia commands indignantly, but she keeps laughing because Natalia is putting her hands on her hips and frowning in a way that looks  _just_  like Emma that she can’t help but picture an eight-year-old dimpled Rivera and  _that’s_  when she stops laughing, because she’s picturing children that don’t exist, with Natalia’s smile and her snark.

“She’s just a kid,” she says, softer this time and Natalia lets her shoulder’s sag a little.

“I know.”

“You know, and  _yet_ , here you are again,  _freaking out_  because of something that’s not true.”

Natalia quirks an eyebrow and she thinks it’s unfair, the ways their rubbing off on each other. “ _What’s_  not true? That we didn’t break up, or that Frank’s not holding me hostage with some ring that’s holding my entire life together?” She asks it like she’s trying to be funny, like this is a joke.

She thinks about the answer and comes up with two options: the first, she can make  _another_  joke and tell her that  _everyone_  knows that Frank isn’t holding her hostage, or two, she can be honest and tell her that they didn’t break up.

But, how do you break up if you’re never going out?

She pushes the thoughts to the back of her mind and shrugs instead – a noncommittal answer.

Somehow, though, her body takes her the few feet across the living room and before she can stop herself, she’s clutching the back of Natalia’s neck, lifting her chin and letting her mouth hover over the other woman’s lips, spice mixing with sugar.

She pauses, because she can’t be the one to do this again. But Natalia stands motionless in her arms and it’s driving her too  _crazy_  and she breaks, letting her held-breath out and capturing Natalia’s exhale in her mouth, catching it between her teeth and keeping there until Natalia takes it back with her tongue, setting her soul free since the  _first_  kiss.

Natalia pulls back, but Olivia still doesn’t have an answer, so she presses forward again anyway.

**_ii. (after Natalia goes)_ **

_She_  gets the call, because Natalia is suddenly unreachable, having disappeared into the great unknown without a goodbye letter, and until her phone rings, she forgets that she even has this certain power.

It’s the hospital: Rafe has had a seizure.

And naturally, since his mother left town faster than Bonnie and Clyde left a gas station,  _she’s_  the one who gets called. Like she’s going to do anything about it.

She thinks about leaving him there to suffer, all by himself with all those beeping machines and the needles pricking his skin and the never-ending feeling of nausea, but she can’t: because she knows how that feels; because even if he’s being a selfish piece of  _shit_ , he deserves better; because she knows that Natalia would drop  _everything_  for Emma and it’s about time she returned the favor.

The minute she walks through the door, she braces herself, ready for his anger and his hate and his ignorance. What she gets, though, is a little boy with the covers tucked up under his chin and his face drawn and tired.

“Rafe?” she whispers, afraid that she’s waking him, but he opens one eye slowly, then the other and he just stares at her without really doing anything.

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. “They asked me who to…and I just thought…”

He’s trying to say he wanted  _her_  to come tell him he was going to be alright and she understands and she knows he’s making a fool of himself right now, so she stops him with a smile.

“I wasn’t busy,” she tells him, waving him off as she pulls a chair into the orbit of the hospital bed. It’s a lie: she was up to her ears in backlogged emails, but he’s  _Natalia_ ’s son and even if thinking about Natalia makes her stomach turn and her heart ache, she’d still do anything for her.

“Did you,” she tries cautiously. “Did you call Frank?”

Rafe stares at her. “Did you want me too?” he asks, just as slowly.

Without even realizing it, she’s grimacing and shaking her head. “God,  _no_ ,” she almost hisses and scoots a little closer to the bed. And maybe she’s just imagining it, but Rafe seems relieved. “So, was it worth it?”

He frowns. “Was  _what_  worth it?” He thinks and then the realization spreads across his face. “Oh. The cake?” He grins. “Yeah, it was. Made from scratch and everything.”

“Chocolate or…”

“Vanilla,” he says smugly.

She nods approvingly. “Good stuff.”

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, the only noise the machine monitoring his heartbeat until he opens his mouth and pauses, closing it again before trying once more.

“Olivia, I…” he sighs and reaches for her hand that’s hanging loosely on the rails. “Thank you,” he sighs. “I’m, I’m  _sorry_  for everything that I’ve, I’ve, uh, done, to you and my mom.”

She doesn’t know how to say  _thank you_  because he’s apologizing for more than she can thank him for. So she leans forward and presses her lips against his overheated forehead and tries to tell him  _that_  way.

“ _Thank you_ ” he sighs when she pulls back.

**_iii. (after the wedding that doesn’t happen)_ **

Natalia wants to know that it will all be okay.

Natalia wants to know that no one will hate her for this.

Natalia wants to know that  _God_ , and the Coopers still love her.

Natalia wants to know that she’ll be forgiven for her sins.

And Olivia, all she wants to know is that Natalia feels the same way as she does; that she’s not the only one with this feeling stuck inside of her chest and her throat; that she’s not alone in this.

She stands off to the side of the gazebo waiting, for  _anything_ : for Natalia to turn around, or to say  _no_  or  _yes_  or to kiss her or hit her or scream or  _something_.

But words can’t fix this, the broken bridge between them. Fire has burned it down and forced them back and their words – the ones they’ve already used – have made short work of the distance between them, doubling it until Natalia just looks like a tiny speck of dirt from where she’s standing – a tiny speck of dirt in a wedding dress who didn’t get married.

She wants to be able to tell Natalia that everyone still loves her, that no one could ever hate her, that God will look down on her with absolution.

But the only thing that comes out of her mouth is a squeak, followed by a muffled sound, because  _somehow_ , her hands have wound themselves into Natalia’s hair, loosening the tight, hair-sprayed bun and her mouth is suctioned to Natalia’s.

She’s trying to say that she’s in this, that she’s not running away.

She’s trying to say that when she said  _there is no us_  she really meant  _I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend the rest of my life with_.

She’s trying to tell Natalia that this is more than a passing infatuation, more than just an obsession or a fixation, that she’s never loved anyone the way she loves Natalia; that Natalia is the only thing that matters now – that she’s been the only that matters for a while now.

She presses a little harder and hopes that Natalia understands.

**_iv. (after_ another _proposal)_**

She thought  _she’d_  be the one to ask. She even had a ring of her own – and even if they can’t get married legally, they can still  _vow_  to be each other’s forever and they can still _promise_  to love and to cherish each other ‘til death do they part – stashed away under her socks, the way she stashed her weed back in San Cristobel, because no one wants to go into a girls ‘unmentionable’ drawer.

So Natalia standing in front of her with a ring in her hand – and even if they can’t get married legally, they can still stand before the people in their lives who a worth a damn and _pledge_  their love to each other – with a sheepish smile and her shoulders in mid-shrug, it startles her.

Startles her enough so that her mouth refuses to open and say  _yes_.

“Olivia?” Natalia prompts nervously, her extended hand trembling slightly with hope and her brown eyes glisten a little. “If you don’t…”

Natalia trails off because she’s moving forward, her hands closing over Natalia’s with reassurance and with desperation and she kisses every inch of Natalia she can reach: her cheek, her mouth, her ears, her throat, her collarbone, her nose.

Natalia  _giggles_  and arches her body into Olivia’s and she’s kissing Natalia’s mouth now, without abandon.

“So it that a yes?” Natalia asks breathlessly.

Olivia kisses her again, pressing her against the edge of the couch and winds her hands into the back of Natalia’s sweater, fisting the material so hard she knows her knuckles are turning white and all the blood is rushing somewhere other than her heart.

“ _Yes_.”

**_v. (after a sleepover)_ **

“I need a favor,” she announces as she pushes the door open.

“It’s called  _knocking_ ,” Doris mumbles from behind her desk, from under her hands, because she’s sitting down, but her face is pressed against the empty space on the desk and her arms are covering her head.

“Yeah, yeah, but listen I…are you alright?” Doris just groans. “Alright,” she says, settling into the seat in front of the desk. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

It sounds suspiciously like something a  _friend_  would say, but she  _really_  needs something done and Doris is the only girl for the job, so if she needs to play  _buddy_  for a while, it can be done.

Doris stands with a groan and comes around the desk, scooting the other chair closer to Olivia and leaning her elbows on her knees, peering up at her through her lashes.

“I may have done something…completely  _strange_.”

She laughs, because it’s Springfield and strange things – like that Frank and Natalia thing –  _happen_. Doris looks offended.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, not meaning it.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Doris starts with a glare. “I think that somehow, I’ve managed to not be able to hold my, liquor, because this morning,” her voice drops to a whisper. “This morning, I woke up  _naked_  with  _Blake Marler_  in my bed.”

She laughs  _this time_ , because it’s a reflex when she hears news that knocks her off her chair.

“Blake?” She asks between breaths. “Blake, former real estate agent, current publisher?  _Blake_?”

“Would you  _stop_  saying her name, please,” Doris begs. “ _Yes_ , that Blake. It was, I don’t even remember what it was, but she was just  _there_  in my bed. Without any clothes on!”

She resist the urge to ask  _and how did that make you feel_.

“And I started  _freaking out_  like a crazy woman and I couldn’t find Ashlee and I didn’t know  _what_  she’d seen and I ran out of there so fast, I didn’t even grab a blazer.” Doris wrings her hands and she notices the lack of blazer once it’s been mentioned. “Oh god,” Doris groans.

Then she straightens and tries to smile. “So what is it you needed?”

She takes Doris’ bait and gives a not-smile of her own. “I need you to take away Frank’s siren thingy, if you can. Every time I go to kiss Natalia, he starts that thing up and between the shock and the noise and the lights, Natalia doesn’t want to kiss me anymore because she’s worried that my heart’ll explode, or something.”

Doris stares at her like she has three heads. Then nods slowly. “I think that can be arranged.” She cocks her head to the side. “Come to think of it, I noticed he’s been carrying it around _a lot_  lately.”

“And now you know why,” she claps excitedly, because  _now_  she can kiss Natalia and not have to miss her mark, only to end up in the hospital. “God,  _thank you_.”

She doesn’t know what else to say and without even thinking about it, she leans forward and presses her mouth against the corner of Doris’s, freezing with her mouth just pressed there.

She pulls away awkwardly and Doris is just  _staring_ at her.

“I, uh…”

“Awkward,” Doris mutters. “That was,” she says a little louder. “That was…”

“Yeah.”

Doris grimaces. “I think you should…”

“Yeah.”

She stands and walks towards the door, then stops and turns back, but Doris is waving her hands at her, eyes closed and forehead furrowed.

She nods. “Yeah.”


End file.
